Happy Endings (a Gandrew Story)

1

It doesn't surprise Garrett, exactly, how he feels when he meets Andrew.

He's handsome, obviously, has a great smile, a laugh that could turn his world upside down, great taste in music and the kind of personality that makes you want to share the deepest parts of your soul with him after a couple drinks. Garrett isn't the kind of guy who says he has a "type", because he thinks narrowing his view will only decrease his percentile of possible matches even further, but if he did have one it would be Andrew.

So no, it doesn't surprise him when he gets little flutters in his chest when their arms brush together, or how his heart speeds up whenever Andrew smiles at him from across some weird, crowded party. In fact, he's delighted, if anything. Who wouldn't be delighted to become acquainted with some sweet, nice, attractive and single guy that actually (shocker) seemed to want to get to know him?

Garrett feels, for some time, like he's back in highschool again. That he's gawking and flirting with some new kid that sends him quick little winks from across the classroom and who lets him keep his hand on his shoulder for a few seconds past platonic. It's a nice feeling, to be flirting again like this, to feel like maybe he's got a shot with someone a few extra miles out of his league who doesn't laugh at his fashion choices and talks with him for hours about something neither of them will remember in the morning.

When Andrew writes his number down on a napkin for him at a mutual friends party, Garrett feels like his chest is going to burst. When Andrew asks if he wants to grab coffee with him next week, Garrett agrees as fast as his slow little brain will let him (even though he still stutters). When Andrew leans up against him, head thrown back in laughter, Garrett feels like he's floating ten feet off the ground.

It all adds up for a few months until, somehow, they're close. Probably closer than most people would be after such a short time in cahoots with each other, but they both feel so naturally themselves when they talk that they don't question it when the amount of time they spend side-by-side increases tenfold.

So it's not weird when they end up, one night, on Garrett's couch together. It's dark as hell outside, a tiny little patter of rain falling, and they're watching some horrible b-horror movie that has both of them cracking bad jokes and losing their breath laughing. It's a couple drinks in for both of them and Garrett is pleasantly swimming through his buzz. He's watching Birdemic: Shock and Terror about as much as he's watching Andrew from the corner of his eye, pulled up close to him on his little futon bed, legs touching and shoulders brushing with their movements. Andrew looks amazing in the flickering light of the tv, blue bouncing off his hair, eyes shiny, lips parted gently.

Garrett has been in this position before, and if it was anyone but Andrew he'd probably have an easier time willing himself up to move in for the kiss. But there's a little more at stake here than most of his previous "couch-encounters", because the fluttering in his chest and the weightlessness to his limbs has only gotten stronger over the past six months, and he can't imagine scaring that all away with one stupid, overly-confident smooch while watching the worst movie on planet earth.

His own insecurities, though, are the things that he has been trying to not let control his life lately. And Andrew, perfect, handsome Andrew, is so close to him now, and if taking a risk means possibly opening up a new chapter of his life with the man next to him on this couch tonight then it's a risk he's willing to take.

He moves forward, slow, like a lion through tall grass, and Andrew's phone lights up.

Andrew turns his head away, breaking his concentration on the movie, reaches over and grabs his cell from beside him.

"Hmm. Phone call. Can we pause, this is too bad for me to miss."

Of course, Garrett goes for the remote and stops the movie in its tracks. Andrew never has to ask him to do anything twice.

....

...

Garrett doesn't want to snoop. He really doesn't, because he's not that kind of guy. People are allowed to have their privacy, after all, he's got his fair share of little secrets he holds close to himself. But Andrew isn't being exactly quiet, and his voice is teasing him from outside of his apartment door, and somehow he ends up with his ear pressed up against the wood, straining to hear the conversation playing out.

He can't tell if he's glad he decided to listen to avoid future mortal embarrassment or if it's the worst decision of his life so far.

He hears Andrew say babe four times total. That, in his opinion, is far too many babes for any situation.

When he comes back inside, Garrett plays it cool on the couch like he hadn't been flat against the door. Andrew believes him.

Garrett asks, out of nowhere, who it was that Andrew had been talking to.

He says "Oh, just uh- just this girl." With just enough colour on his cheeks that Garrett would have to be a fool not to get the picture. How Andrew could possible paint such an ugly picture for him, Garrett doesn't know.

Heartbreak isn't the kind of feeling that sets in all at once. First, it's disappointment. He's disappointed in the lost opportunity, at the lack of anything more. Then it's something like despair. Or grief. Mourning the hope, mourning the butterflies smashed to paste in his chest, mourning the weightlessness of his limbs as they all come back to him heavy as lead.

The final stage is that sadness, that sharp, heavy blade that sinks in from the top and cuts right down to the bottom, leaving nothing nice behind it. The kind of sadness that makes Garrett have to stop himself short of some kind of panic at how awful and horrible it feels all of a sudden, after a moment when he was so close to happiness he could almost taste it (taste him, his lips, still as soft as ever but now so many more miles out of his reach).

They finish the movie and Garrett drives Andrew home, and he feels guilty at the relief he experiences once Andrew isn't there anymore because he doesn't have to pretend that his world hadn't just shifted and caved in front of his own two eyes.

That doesn't stop him, though, from watching to make sure that Andrew makes it all the way back into his apartment and inside safely. Because of course it doesn't.